A certain commenter on one of my recent posts took issue with my mentioning nipples. And then I noticed how much this header kind of resembled a boob. A boob of someone who’s breasts have not started to sag, who is lying on her back. Maybe it’s just me.
Oh, and while you’re up? Could you grab me a beer? Please?
For some reason, I am having problem accessing all of my email today. Really, anything that requires me to sign in is giving me issues. And it’s not just my laptop, it’s also my desktop. No gmail. No comcast webmail. Nothing. I can’t sign in to messenger. WTF is going on? But, oddly enough, my google sidebar thing is accessing my email and showing it to me in a list, but when I try to click on it and see the whole email, I get that “Problem loading page” thing. And it’s not just firefox, either. I tried it in IE.
Is anyone else having a problem? Or am I just completely cursed?
I haven’t used Blog Soldiers in a while, and I recently received an email telling me to allocate my credits. I didn’t think I would have any, but it turned out I had over 1400! Yeah! I thought. 1400 credits! That’s awesome. I allocated away and prepared for the onslaught of visitors.
Well, the onslaught came and is still coming. I look at my referrals stats and virtually every single one of my visitors of the last couple of days has been from Blog Soldiers. And virtually every single one of them has stayed for exactly 30 seconds.
This must be why I stopped surfing via Blog Soldiers, especially once Blog Mad came along. Both Blog Mad AND Blog Advance have gotten me a lot of hits, but also a lot of READERS, people who stop long enough to read something and comment on it. And when I do my own surfing, I find lots of blogs on BM and BA that are worth stopping for. I don’t accrue as many credits, because I’m not clicking through blogs as fast as I can (somewhat alleviated by the 1:1 ratio of both of these wonderful services, as opposed to the 2:1 for BS). But on BS, frankly, the good stuff is few and far between, with a lot of repeats (which is, I think, why they sent out emails reminding people to allocate their credits).
The point of a traffic exchange is not to get a bigger number in your sitemeter, it’s to expose your blog to readers. But if the readers aren’t readers, but rather traffic whores, then it’s just a waste of time. So bye, Blog Soldiers! I’ve moved on to the greener pastures of Blog Advance and Blog Mad, where surfers read and readers surf and everybody (well, almost everybody) comments!
I like this new theme. It’s pretty. And very customizable. I can change that header to a variety of choices or insert my own. And everything is neat and organized and simple. Just what I like.
Of course, I’ll probably change it again within the hour. I’m drinking Leinie’s Berry Weiss. Because I’m a girl and it’s tasty. In a few minutes, I have to go to a Little League game, which is a little bit like willingly tearing off one of your nipples with a pair of pliers. And yes, I know that seems a little too graphic, perhaps a little too over-the-top, even for me. But have you ever BEEN to a Little League game? Let’s just hope those thunderstorms that are just hanging around to the west of us get their asses here in a jiffy. Because I don’t relish feeling like one of my nipples has been torn off with some pliers, an old pair of rusty, jagged pliers to boot.
I’ve been getting slammed with spam in my comments, and it is driving me nearly insane. There’s so much of it that askimet can’t keep up with it. I had 38 comments in my inbox to moderate this morning, all spam. This is not counting the HUNDREDS of spam comments that askimet did catch. WHAT THE HELL? Go away, spammers!
If this continues, I’m going to have to turn comments off, because this is really fucking annoying.
Update: I am in love with Spam Karma 2 right now.
Plus, yes, you may have noticed a little change here. I just switched to a different theme. Just for fun. I’ll probably go back to that other one, or maybe someday return to my funny woman with the big red mouth. I don’t know. I like changing the look on a whim. Maybe it fools people who are surfing by to think, hmm, I haven’t seen this one before, I think I’ll stay awhile and read, instead of, oh, this VikiBabbles thing AGAIN? Blech.
School is officially over for the semester. I handed in all of my work this afternoon and I am done with it. Finally. (If you were here, you would see me breathing huge, gasping sighs of relief.) Now all I have to do with my time is fun things. And cleaning the house. That hasn’t been done in too long a time. It’s actually kind of disgusting, but I just keep telling myself that I’m doing my family a favor, exposing them to potentially harmful bacteria so that they can build up resistance! So when everyone else, all those people who use antibacterial handsoaps and sprays and what not, is dying from diseases they’ve created themselves by consistently providing an ultra-clean environment, thus creating a stronger breed of germ, we’ll be all resistant and shit. See? Make sense?
I will be back to blogging with a vengeance. Just not right now. I’ve got to clear a path to the door and go buy some beer. But you CAN go ahead and do a happy dance that now you will have something worthwhile to read on a more regular basis. Go ahead, dance! Dance I tell you! And make it happy!
So I’m standing at my kitchen sink not ten minutes ago, washing the pan I used to make my scrambled eggs this morning, and I see a group of teenagers coming down the sidewalk towards my house. Initially, I didn’t take too much notice of them. The high school just let out, so they’re on their way home, although I did wonder why I couldn’t remember ever having seen this particular crew before. I’m sure I would have remembered, especially the girls in their heavy black eyeliner and dyed, straight black hair and black clothes and heavy boots (that goth look that always makes me want to yell “Wash your face!” and “Try pink! It would look great with your pasty white skin!”). Anyway, I look back down at my crusty pan and start scrubbing away but look up again when I realize my dogs had not started barking. They bark at EVERYBODY who walks by my house as if Satan had just materialized in front of them. I live on a corner, so they run along the fence, following the passer-by, barking their fucking heads off. They weren’t doing that because the kids had stopped at the corner of my fence, right by my driveway. “Hmm,” I thought. “I wonder what they’re up to?” But before that thought could completely run through my head, I see one of the girls lift a bowl to her lips and hold a lighter to it, while saying something to her friend.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I said. Out loud. To myself. Then I went to the back door and opened it quietly and that’s when the dogs started barking. One kid said something to the girl with the bowl and she lowered it.
“You might want to try being a little more sly with that,” I said. “What are you thinkin’?”
One of the boys says, “It’s just tobacco!”
“Sure it is,” I said. “You think you kids invented that stuff? Doesn’t it occur to you that some adults might be around who know what you’re doing? You’re standing on a sidewalk in broad daylight!”
“It’s tobacco, ma’am!” (Argh. I hate being called ma’am. Especially by someone I’m busting for smoking pot on the sidewalk outside my house at 3:15 in the fucking afternoon.)
Meanwhile, they’ve resumed walking and now they are about even with me where I stand on my back porch. “Do yourself a favor,” I say. “Get your head out of your ass and smoke that at home, okay?”
“Okay! Bye!” they call, giggling.
How fucking stupid can you be? I remember doing some pretty stupid things when I was a teenager. Maybe. Okay, we did things like stop in the middle of the street, and then we’d all get out of the car and cop a squat on someone’s front lawn. There’d be six or seven girls scattered, squatting and peeing and giggling, our car radio blaring. It’s like we didn’t think anything existed but us. And we were always so shocked to get busted for stuff. We honestly thought that, what? Adults wouldn’t notice? Wouldn’t do anything? Didn’t know what a drunk or stoned person looked like? Didn’t know what pot smelled like? Couldn’t recognize that particular way you have to hold a lighter on it’s side in order to put spark to fragrant weed? What the hell?
Now, I could have been a real bitch and called the police and really confronted them and made them wait there for the police and made a big old scene and all that, but then I’d get rocks thrown through my window. It IS occurring to me now that I could have simply CONFISCATED their “tobacco.” But that probably would have brought me a little more trouble than it’s worth. Plus, teenagers smoke schwag. I just wanted to let them know they were seen. That they are not invisible. And to let them know they are incredibly STUPID.
So, what would you have done? Would you have called the police? Would you have said anything different than I did? Would you have invited them up on your porch and asked for a hit and offered them a beer? Would you have followed them in your car to see where they live? Would you have bothered to say anything to them at all?
